


The Raven, the Snake and the Prowler

by persephoneregina



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Curse Breaking, Everyone is alright, Familiars, Happy Ending, Hybrids, Light Angst, Literally it's a drop, M/M, Modern Witch AU, Mother-Son Relationship, Panther Hybrid Wooyoung, Please don't panic, Ravens, Shapeshifter San, Short mention of a drop of blood, Snakes, White Magic vs Black Magic, Witch Curses, Witch Park Seonghwa, Witch Seonghwa, or your money back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:26:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28471611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephoneregina/pseuds/persephoneregina
Summary: “No but, San. I need you to promise me that. The both of you. You have no idea what she is capable of…” Seonghwa retaliated, and, this time, his voice was firmer and more imperative than ever, meaning that there was really no questioning his conditions.Before San could protest, he felt the grip of Wooyoung’s hand fastening around his hand, meaning that he wanted him to stay put and let him speak. Before opening up his mouth, Wooyoung gave San a quick glance and a wink. “Trust me”, he whispered to him, and then, turning his eyes in Seonghwa’s direction, he said: “Whatever you need us to do.”Seonghwa looked back at him, in the twilight, and nodded, as he pressed his lips together. Then, he turned around and proceeded on their path, following the purple glow.“We’re not really doing that, right?” San asked, hissing in Wooyoung’s ear.“What the heck, of course we’re not.” Wooyoung answered, in a growled whisper, hugging San’s waist with his tail. “I just needed him to believe that.”
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	The Raven, the Snake and the Prowler

**Author's Note:**

> This short work, submitted for the Writiny Secret Santa, is a present for Aku <3  
> I hope you'll like it, I had a great deal of fun writing it and I really, really hope it will meet your expectations for your prompt!  
> I tried to conciliate the modern witch au theme with also hybrids and shapeshifting creatures and sending them all off on a major adventure :D  
> As my first time working with this concept, I hope I have done well!  
> Merry -belated- Christmas and a very happy New Year!
> 
> As always, enjoy your read and please remember that you, all of you, are cherished and loved, so so very much, with every single fibre of my being <3  
> Please stay safe, healthy and happy, may 2021 bring you all the serenity and peace you deserve.

# The Raven, the Snake and the Prowler

The world is a dark place, for those who are born under the curse of the Hermit.

Self sufficient, adventurous, revolutionary individuals, with a deep sense of self awareness and a high understanding of the hidden laws of the universe, they are doomed to wander the world on their own, without ever belonging, without ever settling down.

These spirits, no matter the social context in which they’re born, are untamable ones. Rebellious, non-conventional, restless, they find peace in their spirit and comfort in loneliness. All elements which, goes without saying, don’t make them the best rulers, nor in the human world, nor in… any other one.

This is the case of Seonghwa, a witch of noble birth, son of two of the most feared and respected black witches of his time that, instead of accepting all the eases and the privileges deriving from his condition, left his home, many years ago, to go to live among humans and offer them his aid. Unlike his siblings and his parents, Seonghwa has always felt, from a very young age, that the path of the shadows was not made for him to walk. So, as soon as he finished his studies and accomplished the final ritual that would have made him, in all and for all, a witch, Seonghwa had everything already planned. Without anyone knowing, he had taken possession of an abandoned cottage, located deep into the woods in his parents’ realm, where he had established his very own laboratory and to which, with a very perilous spell, Seonghwa had tied part of his being. He used all of his knowledge, which was definitely impressive for such a young witch, to charm the cottage, in order to dematerialise it and materialise it again at his please, wherever he went, and made sure it was protected by an ancient form of defensive magic, one he had learned from the forbidden books of white magic he discovered into his parents’ collection, that would have made it visible only to those in real need of help. There, along with his faithful raven familiars, Seonghwa, much to his family’s disdain, lead a life in service of the pure of soul, who would come to him in times of necessity, and whom he gladly helped by crafting amulets, reading tarots, concocting potions and providing with blessings and cleansings of different nature, all for a very reasonable price. The only clause he imposed, to those seeking his assistance, was that they must have had noble purposes and act for the greater good. 

Seonghwa was different and there was no way he would have been able to live a happy life, if he had remained where he was born. He craved a different life, a different conception of magic, a form of freedom for his soul which he would have never found anywhere, in the world. So he kept wandering, seeking for a peace he wouldn’t have found for the turmoil that, ever so often, came for his soul and shook it from its core. 

_Away we go, away we go, away we go like clouds of smoke,_ Seonghwa chanted, whenever the feeling occurred to him that he had accomplished his tasks in a certain part of the world, or felt himself being called elsewhere, or, more simply, he knew, like in an abrupt awakening, that he couldn’t have born staying. So, Seonghwa left just like he arrived: his cottage and him both vanishing in a cloud of smoke and a handful of pitch black, iridescent feathers. Of course, a witch would not have the freedom enjoyed by humans, who could move wherever they wanted to, if they disposed of the means. No matter the wealth witches carried with themselves, they could only establish their homes in certain locations of the world, according to a very specific geographic disposition, unimaginable and undetectable by humans, where unsealed rifts of magical forces would form fields of overflowing energies, needed to permit an adequate, regular maintenance of the witch’s powers, granting their spells the proper impactfulness and capable of regenerating their magical resources. The slightest imbalance, as a matter of fact, could have revealed itself crucial in times of need, and a witch devoted to goodness and with a name so heavily weighing on him, like Seonghwa, knew better than to allow himself any mistakes.

Odd things would happen, when witches did not respect these specific locations and, for someone who needed to move as often as Seonghwa did, it was not always a bed of roses.

Yet, lately, Seonghwa had felt a shift in the magical field where his cottage was located, in the city of Seoul, close to the Han river, and he knew, like he always knew things, that it could not have been ignored any further. 

Most of the time, Seonghwa did not know things in a clear, defined, limpid way. He perceived them, rather, and it felt like a sort of brain fog, a sinister omen clouding the back of his mind, a subtle shiver running down his spine at once, a tug at his heart, visions of fragments of truth displaying themselves in front of his eyes at the most unforeseen times, until he couldn’t unsee them, until he couldn’t look away.

That was the case with the growing feeling he had been getting, for quite some time, that something was wrong, something he couldn’t ignore, for it somehow called for his intervention, for him to take care of it. But, whenever that kind of phenomenons presented themselves to him, there was always a form of atavic fear that slowly crawled over him, for once he had seen, once he had known, he could not have backed down. He would have had to take action. And Seonghwa hated being forced in the position of having to face something that did not parent to himself in its real entity, in its full extent. Even more so since, for once in his lifetime, he was not prone to leaving the place where he was. His restlessness seemed to have almost become quiescent, ever since he came to Seoul. Possibly because, there, he had found purpose: the humans that came to him appreciated his services a great deal, and he always found a way to make himself useful, so much that he had developed a sort of niche of affectionate clients, who came to him not only to ask for his services, but also to talk to him, to fill his days with stories of their lives, of their past, of their dreams. Seonghwa would listen to what they had to say and, oddly enough, that seemed to be a medicament by itself in the eyes of the humans, who found in the wisdom of his ancient soul a warmth, an empathy, a shelter from the external world. Somehow, his humans, so he liked to call them, meant a lot to him. Seonghwa found himself growing very fond of them. Their worries, their concerns, their issues, all seemed so peculiar and borderline absurd, in his eyes: as someone who had a solution ready for nearly every single one of those, the distress and the sufferance experienced by humans, in the short parables of their lives, made little to no sense, but nonetheless, he felt those struggles like they were his own, he saw the kindness in their hearts and could not bring himself to ridicule them for the ones that, as he witnessed first hand, were the troubles tormenting them, and never denied his assistance to them, be it a charm, a spell, an amulet, a reading, or just a shoulder to cry on.

In addition to that, and even more vividly so, there was one more thing that held Seonghwa to Seoul, one thing he had discovered being more powerful than any ritual he could have performed, more overwhelming than any potion he could have concocted, mightier than the most ancient enchantments guarded in the eldest tomes of arcane magic he had ever read by his people: love.

Seonghwa had found love in the last place where he would have ever imagined it: a veterinary studio, where he had brought his dearest raven, Bam, when one of his wings got injured. Of course, he could have attempted to do something about it, but Seonghwa still thought that, in some circumstances, especially the ones where his dear ones were involved, he would have better taken a step back and conceded some credit to science, too. There, he encountered the ones who would have become his boyfriends: San, a shapeshifter, gifted with the capacity to turn into a beautiful, majestic, black snake, who worked there as an ophiologist, and Wooyoung, a hybrid between a panther and a human, whose innate understanding of mammals, felines more specifically, made of him quite a skilful veterinarian. The two of them had settled in the human world way better than he did, in spite of how their looks gave away their clear difference from everyone else, and never even tried to conceal their nature, for the humans, in Seoul, were way more understanding and comprehensive than anywhere else in the world, and cared way more for the actual worth of the individuals, rather than about the species they belonged to. There, San’s sharp canines and slit pupils didn’t raise any interest in the people surrounding him, nor would have anyone raised their brow at the sight of Wooyoung’s round ears and long, thick tail, covered in black fur. But they had not been bestowed with the burden of magic powers, and, for little of a difference that it might have seemed, from an external point of view, that made all the difference in the world between them and Seonghwa, because no one in their right mind could have thought there could have been anything to exploit about them, while the same could not have been said about Seonghwa. He had to guard himself from both the perils coming from ill intentioned humans and from the ones represented by those witches, affiliated with his family, that wanted so desperately to take him back home, with any means they had.

As a matter of fact, when Seonghwa had left his family and forsaken his innate disposition towards black magic, he had irremediably weakened all of his kin, and there were still some witches looking for him, trying to bring him back, whether he liked it or not. Never staying too long in the same place had helped, of course. But it was not a viable solution. In the long run, they would have found him. Especially his mother, for their blood tie could not be subject to erasure, nor could Seonghwa have ever conjured a spell so powerful to shield him from her watchful eyes.

These and many more were the thoughts running through his mind, on that Friday night, as he tried to distract himself from his worries by writing on a piece of parchment paper the ingredients he needed to restock for the next week, when all of a sudden, he felt a tight grip fastening around his ankle, from under the table, and then moving up along the muscles of his leg, a sinuous movement, all the way up to his lap. A black snake, whose scales shined in flashes of lilac and teal, under the warm light of the candle on top of the table, was working its way around Seonghwa’s waist and then slowly moved to wrap itself in elegant spires around his arm and wrist, until its head sat on the tip of the witch’s index finger. There, the serpent’s eyes met the one of the witch, and the animal’s tongue slipped out of its mouth in a hissing sound. But Seonghwa knew better than to fear snakes, especially that one: without ever breaking their eye contact, he leaned his head towards the one of the animal and delicately kissed its cold snout. When Seonghwa looked at San, after the kiss, he had shifted back to his human form and was sitting on his lap, arms thrown around Seonghwa’s neck, lips still curled in an expecting pout and eyes closed, waiting to be kissed again. But before the witch could comply with his wish, Wooyoung opened the door and reached for San’s lips, licking them with his raspy tongue, and then for Seonghwa’s.

“Glad to see us, love?” Wooyoung said, smugly, as he smeared himself over Seonghwa’s back, weighing on him with all of his torso and rubbing his head against the witch’s cheek, incapable to contain a loud, guttural purring.

“Very much so,” Seonghwa answered, scratching lightly under Wooyoung’s neck, which made him purr even louder. “‘S been a hard day.”

“What happened?” Asked San, as he adjusted himself to adhere better to Seonghwa’s chest with his cold body, trying to absorb his warmth, ending up sprawled all over him.

Seonghwa sighed, before speaking. It was a delicate subject for him, and he didn’t want to alert them for something that could have turned out to mean absolutely nothing. But, then again, Seonghwa remembered the words his mother used to tell him, when he was a child. _Trust your guts, they’re your guardian angels_. He found it ironic how the same person who taught him to listen to his instincts was the one said instincts were telling him to guard himself from. “There is a shift in the magic rift. I’ve been feeling it for quite a while, now, but I guess that now, with the year drawing to its end and the general variations of forces that this period already brings along with itself, it has become more noticeable. Not just that. It has been calling for my attention, and I cannot turn away from this much longer. If the rift is exhausting its powers, then this means…”

“You will have to leave.” San finished his sentence, looking away from Seonghwa, already heartbroken at the very thought of losing him, and Seonghwa sadly nodded. There was no point in lying. Not to them, anyway.

“Why? Why would you have to leave?” Wooyoung retaliated, looking at Seonghwa, while his tail nervously fended the air and hit the leg of the table, rhythmically.

“Because,” Seonghwa said, sliding his lean fingers in both San’s and Wooyoung’s napes and cuddling their hair, to calm them down, as he felt the tension building up in the air, “It is the source onto which I latch in order to preserve my powers and, on the long run, to survive. If a drift dies down, or becomes extinguished, I need to seek a new one. Otherwise…” He tried to finish what he was saying, but a lump of sadness clogged his throat and forbade him to proceed with the explanation he was giving to Wooyoung.

Wooyoung wanted to speak, again, but San gave him a deadly glare that instantly shut him up before any words could leave his mouth. He was clearly not happy about it, yet it was quite evident, even to him, that that was not the time to put his objections before Seonghwa’s state of mind. So, Wooyoung remained silent and limited himself to rest his head in the crook of the witch’s neck, while wrapping his arms around him and mindlessly playing with the short feathers that were sewn on the hem of his cloak.

“Is there anything we can help you with?” San murmured, gently, after a couple of minutes.

“I don’t know yet. But now I cannot postpone anymore. The next full moon will be tomorrow, and it is calling for me, more than ever before. It’s going to be in Cancer, which means that all of my senses and powers will, at least, be magnified by its influence. If something is happening, there will not be another better day to find out for quite a long time.” He said, keeping his eyes on the parchment paper, but not really seeing anything of what was standing in front of him, more confusedly perceiving a blurred series of shapes, while his deepest fears seemed to be taking over, like a sirens’ song luring him down in the abyss of his own mind. “It calls for me… And I no longer have the strength to oppose it, anymore. If I look away, I will end up so weak that I may not even have the time or energy to look for a new rift.”

“Love, listen to me.” Wooyoung’s voice softly called, and it felt as an echo getting closer to him and dragging him out of deep waters, “...I might be wrong, but dwelling on it now will do you no good, just like thinking that you have to go through this on your own. We’re here, too. We’re not going anywhere, not without you, and neither will you. Tomorrow we will go investigate this rift, together. But for now, we should better not focus on the worst possible scenario. Come, let us take care of you.”

Seonghwa wanted to oppose Wooyoung's words. He wanted to tell him that there was no way they could have helped him, that it would have been too dangerous, that they couldn’t have known what would have expected them, once they would have reached the rift, and that it was something for him, and him only, to face. He wanted to make him desist from his purpose, but he didn’t have the energies to do any of those things. Not to mention that, knowing how stubborn he could have been, it would have made very little sense to embark himself in a crusade he most likely wouldn’t have won. If he would have forbidden them to follow him, they would have done it anyway: he might have as well just brought them along and hoped for the worst not to happen.

The night fell on their heavy hearts, kindly easing, with its motherly embrace of darkness and sleep, their minds from those worries, replacing them with gentle dreams. Meanwhile, the soft rays of the almost full moon imbued with their power the amethyst druses that Seonghwa had prepared for their journey, before going to bed. If they had to do that, they should have used all the means he held to protect themselves and magnify their power. A full moon in Cancer was just what they needed, so if they had to leave, that was their best chance.

  
  
  
  


The following morning, when San woke up, they noticed that Seonghwa was not in bed with them anymore.

“Woo,” San called, shaking his arm, but earning himself a loud snore as a reply, “Woo! Wake up!” 

“...What…” Wooyoung replied, slurring the words in an endless groan.

“Come on, you grumpy cat! Wake up!” San insisted, dragging him across the sheets by his arm.

“I’m not sleeping…” Wooyoung tried to say, but his blurred, sleepy words clearly proved San otherwise.

“Wooyoung, Seonghwa is missing.”

At those words, Wooyoung got up at once, so fast that he almost stumbled in his tail. “Why didn’t you say that sooner? Have you checked the bathroom? Maybe he’s just taking one of his century long showers.”

“Wooyoung, after everything we discussed yesterday, do you really think he could have disappeared to take a shower?” San emphasised, with a grand gesture of his hands, as he quickly wore a pair of trousers and tried to button up his shirt, with his shaking hands.

“...Fair point.” Wooyoung eventually answered, pointing with his index finger in San’s direction, before he bent down to collect his clothes, sprawled on the ground by his side of the bed.

“So you’re awake.” Seonghwa’s voice called, right when the two of them were about to sprint off to look for him, as he walked back inside, from the front door, and heard their loud bickering sounds. “Come, I went outside to collect the charged crystals. Let’s eat. It will be a long day.” 

Very delicately, Seonghwa poured some fresh water in two tall glasses, for Wooyoung and San, from a pitcher, in which he had placed, hours before, two pieces of black tourmaline, for purification and to reset the water’s memory, a very common practice with which he loved to treat his water, and to which Wooyoung and San had gotten used to, so much that they asked Seonghwa to provide them their very own tourmalines with which they could purify their water at work. After that, he placed on the table some homemade oatmeal and honey cookies, bowls of fresh fruit, and a steaming pot of hot lemongrass and osmanthus tea.

Exploring a magic rift is no easy task, even for the most experienced witches. First of all, because no witch would ever dare to go there alone, without other members of their coven to back them up. Secondly, because it requires a lot of mental and spiritual preparation, which can take quite a long time. Third and lastly, because one can never know which magic supplies will be needed there, depending on whether the rift has been naturally extinguishing its potential, its energy is being blocked by some sort of parasite or, in the worst case scenario, it has been cursed.

Normally, the curse would not be such a terrible possibility, but the circumstances made it so, since Seonghwa could only count on his own, progressively weakening, powers. Though he didn’t have it in himself to tell them, San and Wooyoung, by coming with him, were going to actually make things harder for Seonghwa, since he would have had to be extra careful and keep an eye on their every move, while also having to detect what was going on down there.

But first, they needed time to prepare themselves. 

As soon as they had all eaten, the cottage teemed with restless organisation for the cleansing, balancing and energising rituals they had to go through before they faced the task ahead of them.

“Here,” the witch said, handing each of them an amulet he had carefully crafted earlier on that morning, “Wear this and never take it off.” 

Composed of a shard of white quartz embedded in a bronze cage, with a small hoop on top, through which a leather thread, long enough to go around their necks, had been pulled, the amulets appeared as regular necklaces. Except that, once they touched their skins, a faint white glow softly shone for a few seconds, meaning that the pendants had gotten acquainted with their new owners.

“ _May all of our hearts be blessed by the light, may all of our minds be perfectly bright. May Mother Moon guide our pleading souls. May Father Sun dearly keep us whole. Walk on the path of salt and fire, shall it preserve us when times will be dire. Shall it preserve us when times will be unsafe. Shall it lead us with undying faith._ ” Seonghwa slowly chanted, almost in a trance, golden beams of light flashing brighter from his fluttering lids as he spoke those words and held them by their hands. 

After Seonghwa lit up five brazen censer and sprinkled a generous handful of crystallised incense on the burning coals inside of them, he traced some long lines with salt, on the ground, to form a star, and placed the censers on its apexes, while, where the lines crossed one another, he sat some white candles, alight with vivid, golden flames stretching their way up in the air.

Soon, the perfumed, aromatic smoke thickened up in the room, forming iridescent, pearly clouds and filling up the sensitive nostrils of Wooyoung, making him sneeze, while San’s eyes started to slightly water. It was not easy to undergo such an intense cleansing, for them, since their senses were not nearly as used as Seonghwa’s to such solicitations. 

Then, he lightly sprinkled some drops of a magic oil, in which he had infused spikes of lavender, on their foreheads, and drew a triangular shape with his fingers right before their scalps.

“You can now step inside the magic circle and receive the blessings of the light.” The witch eventually said, taking both San and Wooyoung by the hand and leading them inside the salt lines he had traced on the ground, to stand next to him in the center of the star.

“Mind the candles, Sanie,” He added, “I know you can’t resist some nice warmth, but this is a holy fire. It won’t be gentle on you, if you knock it off.”

San’s eyes widened, like big pools of amber, at those words: sure, as a cold blooded creature he definitely fancied the heat and pursued every source of warmth he could find (namely, Wooyoung’s body), but still fire scared the life out of him. Instinctively, San clinged to Wooyoung’s shirt, and he pulled him tighter in his direction, to hold him safely into his arms.

“Here you are, all safe and snug.” Wooyoung said, with a smug smile on his lips, wrapping his tail around his small waist.

“Very good. So far, you’re doing amazing.” Seonghwa said, kissing both of them on the temples.

“...But we didn’t do anything.” San replied, with his brows furrowed, looking at Seonghwa with an inquisitive gaze.

“ _Exactly_.” The witch said, with a playful giggle, before he turned serious, at once, eyes jolting quickly from San to Wooyoung, with agaze so intense he could have read their souls. “My angels, I know you are craving some action and more than willing to help, but so far, the best you can do is to follow what I say and stay put. Everything we are doing here is safe, for this is a blessed space. But later on, things may not be the same. So I need you to promise me that, whatever happens, you will trust me and not question my recommendations, nor take any initiatives without my approval. Can you do this for me, please?”

Seonghwa is never the one to sound harsh, but there was a peculiar seriousness and severity in his tone, that time, that Wooyoung and San didn’t feel in the mode to joke about it as they usually would have. 

“You won’t have to worry about a thing, babe.” Wooyoung answered, rubbing his head insistently under Seonghwa’s chin, until the witch understood and raised his hand to lightly scratch his nape. “We’ll be the very best assistants you could ask for.”

“Very well, then. Now, let’s all hold our hands, together, and close our eyes. Focus on the most positive memory or feeling you have, and really try to stick to it. Feel it in your hearts. Remember every single sensation it carries. Let it fill up your minds and blow away any other sensation, thought or worry. Cling to that happiness with every fibre of your being.” Seonghwa said, as his fingers tangled with the ones of his partners in a tight grip. “Breathe. Feel the air inflating your lungs and bringing new life into your bodies. Breathe. Be thankful for every single breath. Breathe. Feel the blessed smoke cleanse your whole beings, both physical and psychological. Let it sink in. Let it remove every once of negativity that might have clouded your minds and flawed your actions. Now, blow everything out. Allow your inner darkness to be released away from your hearts. Bid it farewell. Push it out of yourselves, and be reborn.”

As soon as the word _reborn_ left Seonghwa’s lips, all the candles were over, melted on the ground in puddles of milky wax, but their flames were still burning. In the blink of an eye, with a loud sound that made Wooyoung shake, sensitive as he was to noises, the feeble flames of the candles magically set on fire the trails of salt traced by Seonghwa and suddenly rose all the way up to the ceiling, in tall walls of a golden fire that didn’t burn, but that consumed the clouds of incense smoke, as if it found its nourishment in it.

“Walk in the flames.” Seonghwa ordered, dead serious. “They won’t harm you, for your hearts have been purified.”

In spite of his terrified expression, Wooyoung was the first to do as Seonghwa said. As he walked through the fire, very hesitant at first, he was surprised: though his body was clearly touched by the flames, he didn’t feel anything, not even a slightly burnt smell. It was weird and ticklish, as tiny sparks glistened where the flames clashed with his body, and, when he eventually got out, a feeling of warmth and peace radiated from the center of his chest all the way down to his limbs. Then, when Wooyoung eventually stepped out, it was San’s turn. Encouraged by Wooyoung’s example, San threw himself in the flames with a determined heart, and since his skin was way more reactive to the fire, he felt that same tingling a lot more, so much that he couldn’t hold in an enthusiastic laughter. Instead of merely walking, he excitedly performed, through the flames, one of the ritual dances of his people, that had served as a propriatory rite for centuries and centuries. When he got out, his opalescent skin was still glowing with a golden hue, while his heart ran so fast he could have almost felt it in his throat. Then, it was Seonghwa’s turn. But, instead of walking right out, as he was supposed to do, Seonghwa lifted his arms up in the air and, chanting an indistinguishable formula, he called to him all of his ravens. Immediately, all of the windows of the house slammed open, as endless flocks of pitch black birds flew inside, with a deafening cawing, and reached for their master, completely obscuring his figure and covering, with their wings, every inch of his body. Then, the walls of fire progressively began to move towards him, in a swirling motion, and to stretch themselves upwards, higher and higher, growing in brightness and thickness, until they completely enveloped both Seonghwa and his ravens. The tall column of fire hugged him tighter, while flares of unstandable heat spiralled around it and loudly crackled, rhythmically, as a sinister breath, for quite a few minutes, during which neither San nor Wooyoung could bear keeping their eyes open because of the blinding brightness. The flames kept contorting themselves around Seonghwa, taking the shape of an enormous globe of fire, and when it eventually assumed a perfectly round shape, the sphere exploded with a loud burst and a massive wave of bright light, that pushed both Wooyoung and San against the wall with its energy.

At last, when the heat started to fade and the light became dimmer and dimmer, they were able to open up their eyes: much to their marvel, in front of them, stood Seonghwa, completely dressed in perfect white, a thick mantle of snowy feathers floating on his back, glossy, golden hair replacing his dark mane, hands and chest beautifully adorned with pure gold amulets. On the back of his left hand, a stunning, massive, albino crow, with vivid red eyes, glanced at them, before bending towards the witch’s ear and murmuring God knows what to him. Seonghwa listened, giggled, and then softly caressed the creature’s beautiful feather, before he turned his eyes in their direction and smiled, with a kind expression in his eyes.

“Come, my darlings.” He said, as he picked up a leather sack from the table and lifted up the handle of a trap door, perfectly hidden on the wooden floor, opening it up. “It is our time to go.”

Then, he took a couple steps down the creaking stair that stretched itself in front of him. Wooyoung and San stared at him and then at each other, puzzled, having way more questions than ever before, still hugging each other and shaking, after the fright from a few seconds before. Nonetheless, Wooyoung stood up first and leaned his hand towards San, to help him stand up.

“Come, baby,” he said, as he gently kissed his forehead and temples, “We don’t want to fall behind.”

“Yes,” San answered, tightly grabbing Wooyoung’s warm hand, seeking for the comfort he always found in his reassuring touch, “but please, don’t let go of me. I’m afraid we have just witnessed something we don’t yet fully understand. I hardly doubt Seonghwa went through all of this just because he was in need of a makeover.”

“I promise you I will never, ever let go of you. Never, baby.” Wooyoung reassured him and tugged him closer to himself, as they slowly descended down the staircase, following Seonghwa’s steps. As for what they had just seen, Wooyoung preferred avoiding the subject, for the time being: he knew way too well that it was something out of the ordinary, even for a powerful witch like him, and though it seemed to be quite a majestic spectacle, he couldn’t brush off the sinister feeling that it implied something deeply concerning. As a hybrid, Wooyoung knew better than to dismiss such feelings. But he could also sense San’s worry, and thought there was no need to dwell into the subject. At least, not until they had any further hint as for what Seonghwa’s intentions truly were.

Just like they had walked through the light and the flames, a few minutes before, now the three of them found themselves walking through darkness and humidity. In spite of Wooyoung’s natural skill to see through the darkest environments, he couldn’t detect anything. Led by the adamant sound of Seonghwa’s steps, and firmly holding San by his side, Wooyoung slowly advanced, in an instinctively defensive stance, teeth gritting and ears pricked, to listen at the slightest shifts in the air.

“Don’t be scared, baby,” he heard Seonghwa say, ahead of him, “there’s nothing to fear. Not here, anyway.” Then, the witch turned around and pressed a loud kiss on the tip of Wooyoung’s nose.

“I’m sorry, I guess there’s not much I can do about my instincts. Darkness just naturally triggers the prowler.” He said, a little ashamed after being caught growling.

“Nothing to be sorry for. I just wanted to let you know that we’re safe here. I wouldn’t put you in danger, you know that, right?” Seonghwa asked, sweetly, and kept on walking. In the distance, a faint purple light glinted from the shadows. It was still far away, but it meant that they were on the right path.

“I know, and I trust you with my life. I just… I guess I am really confused by what went on earlier, and I think San and I would both very much appreciate an explanation.” Eventually, Wooyoung spoke his mind: he had never been the one to be able to avoid confrontation, when needed, and he couldn’t keep on beating it around the bush for much longer.

“Oh.” Seonghwa answered, furrowing his brows and biting his lips. He took a deep sigh, while he tried to make up the right words to explain his actions to them. Of course, he owed them a clarification: though many of his actions usually made little sense to his partners, he always took the time to make sure they knew what he was doing and the reason why. That time, though, it was different. He needed to find a way to express himself that wouldn’t have scared them, but it was harder than ever, since he was the first to be afraid. “So that is what is worrying you… Well, I guess I might as well tell you, but I cannot promise you it will be easy to understand. You see, once we arrive at the rift, we might find something deeply, deeply evil. Something conjured with an unimaginably ancient and powerful magic, as powerful as obscure: a curse. Normally, no witch would face a curse of this entity, strong enough to occlude a whole magic rift, by themself: it is reckless and very, very dangerous. On top of that, I do not only have to protect myself from whatever we will find down there. I cannot bear the thought that anything could happen to the both of you. So, I did the only thing I could: I absorbed the magic energy from my whole home, from my familiars and from the holy fire I conjured, in order to protect us and, with a bit of luck, to undo the curse. It’s a desperate attempt, and it’s not nearly like any other spell I have ever crafted before, but it’s still worth a try. At least, it will give us a chance of succeeding and going back home together. But, before we go on, you must promise me that, if anything happens to me, you will both run away and not try anything.”

“But…” San tried to speak, feeling his very core rioting to those words. How could he expect them to promise such a thing? How could he think they would have really left him to his fate and turned their backs on him in time of need?

“No _but_ , San. I need you to promise me that. The both of you. You have no idea what she is capable of…” Seonghwa retaliated, and, this time, his voice was firmer and more imperative than ever, meaning that there was really no questioning his conditions.

Before San could protest, he felt the grip of Wooyoung’s hand fastening around his hand, meaning that he wanted him to stay put and let him speak. Before opening up his mouth, Wooyoung gave San a quick glance and a wink. “ _Trust me_ ”, he whispered to him, and then, turning his eyes in Seonghwa’s direction, he said: “Whatever you need us to do.”

Seonghwa looked back at him, in the twilight, and nodded, as he pressed his lips together. Then, he turned around and proceeded on their path, following the purple glow.

“We’re not really doing that, right?” San asked, hissing in Wooyoung’s ear.

“What the heck, of course we’re not.” Wooyoung answered, in a growled whisper, hugging San’s waist with his tail. “I just needed him to believe that.”

* * *

  
  
  


Arriving to the rift took still a long amount of time and quite a perilous walk on the brittle path. The more they descended, the creepier the path became, walls of naked rock dripping humidity and increasingly large shards of amethyst peeking and towering from the dark ground of the one that, seemingly, was a tunnel carved thousands and thousands of years before, by some arcane entity. The more they proceeded, the trickier it was to walk without stumbling in stones and holes and the harder it seemed to maintain their balance on the wet surface of the walls, and as they got closer to the rift, the passage became so narrow that both Seonghwa and Wooyoung found it hard to slide through, in spite of their lean silhouettes. As for himself, San found it way more comfortable to turn into his snake form and slither along the path, playfully twirling around the spikes of amethyst and avoiding any other obstacles.

“Sometimes I envy him so much…” Wooyoung complained, side-eyeing San, who, instead, turned his head and teasingly stuck his wiggling tongue out. 

“Well, at least he’s enjoying the hike.” Seonghwa replied, fondly smiling at San and quietly giggling, while Wooyoung kept complaining, in the back.

“Don’t you have something that could turn me into a panther?” He asked, whining. “I would be so majestic…”

“I’m afraid I don’t have the ingredients at hand. I could turn you into a little black cat, though. What would you think about that?” The witch teased, relishing in those moments of blissful happiness.

“Don’t you dare.” The other one answered, fuming at such a blatant form of disrespect in his regards. “If you think I will ever allow you to turn me into a cat, I promise you I will make it my lifetime’s mission to knock off every single jar, cauldron, crystal ball and vial in your shop.”

“Ok, ok, I solemnly promise I will not turn you into a cat.” Seonghwa said, amused by such a heated reaction.

“Yeah, you better not.” Wooyoung replied, still pouting. “Are we there yet? My legs are going numb…”

Before Wooyoung could finish his phrase, though, Seonghwa suddenly sprinted forward, leaving him no chance but following him. A few meters further, the path widened and, in front of them, right after a narrow opening in the rocks, stood an immensely wide cave. That sight left the three of them speechless, even Seonghwa: of course, he knew how magic rifts were made, but he had never visited one in person, so he only knew what he could have expected theoretically. Reality, though, was a whole other thing. The cave appeared like the inside of a thousand times magnified crystal druse: entirely coated with amethyst crystals, of different sizes and heights, perfectly isolated from the outer world and peacefully echoing deep, humming sounds. The crystal walls refracted and glowed with a pulsating purple light, which came in from a massive crack in the rock face, in flickering waves that seemed to follow an undetectable rhythm, almost as if the light was being breathed in by some arcane creature.

“Oooh… Shiny…” Wooyoung gasped, at the sight of the cave, eyes widened and filled with a thousand, glimmering shades of that violet hue.

“Here we are.” Seonghwa stated, as he kneeled on the ground and observed the surrounding environment, taking his time to look at every single corner with the utmost care, to detect the possible source of the alteration. “The moment of truth has arrived. Sanie, stay back, you’re too far ahead of us. It could be dangerous.”

While San shifted again to his human self and ran towards both Seonghwa and Wooyoung, the former put two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly, enough for the high pitched sound to echo throughout the cave and make its fragile walls vibrate.

A few seconds later, the white raven that was being coddled by the witch before, flew inside and sat on one of Seonghwa’s shoulders.

“How was the scouting tour?” Seonghwa murmured, gently, with his usual delicate tone, while the raven leaned, again, close to his ear, and whispered something that made him suddenly shift expression: in a matter of seconds, worry was painted all over Seonghwa’s face. He took one hesitant step further, as he searched for something in his satchel and pulled out of it a crystal ball, throwing it in the air where, much to San and Wooyoung’s surprise, it kept floating, following Seonghwa wherever he went. After that, Seonghwa unfolded an ancient scroll he had with himself and placed it on the ground. The scroll appeared to be completely blank, but as soon as it touched the crystals, a series of indecipherable runes appeared on it, glowing golden. In the meantime, the same, identical golden luminosity shone from within the crystal ball and brightened the walls of the cave, like a gentle, immaterial caress. 

Everything seemed perfectly fine, oddly enough, and that made Seonghwa even more suspicious. There had to be something wrong. There just had to. He couldn’t have been so utterly wrong about it, it made absolutely no sense: his senses had never tricked him like that, not to that extent, not on something so important to him. Never before, anyway.

Unless…

Seonghwa sucked in his cheeks, rubbing his tongue against the inner side of his teeth, and smirking while he shook his head.

Of course.

Of course.

How could he not have thought of that before?

As an additional precaution, just to test whether he had had the right intuition, Seonghwa plucked one of his brooches away from his coat and, with its sharp edge, he pricked his finger. When a single, round drop of his blood dripped down from Seonghwa’s hand and fell on the ground, there was a loud, thundering noise, followed by the clanking sound of crystals clashing one against the other. Shortly after, the whole cave began to shake, harder and harder, while the purple light faded and the environment turned red and dark all of a sudden, revealing its real state, while the charm that concealed the truth from their sight dissolved itself, succumbing to a way more powerful magic: the one of blood.

“Well, well, well...It looks like mother darling was here, after all. Clever trick, I have to concede that.” Seonghwa said, with a smug smile on his lips. “Just not clever enough.”

“Seonghwa, what is happening?” San asked, from the back of the cave, where him and Wooyoung had been the whole time, with a mildly concerned tone.

“Just as I thought, this is all my mother’s work. I guess she wanted to have me at home for Yule or something.” Seonghwa ironically retaliated, to dismiss his real fear, now that he knew his worst thoughts were not hypothetical anymore. He had to face his mother’s magic, and he knew it was not going to be a walk in the park. 

But while he was trying to keep both of his boyfriends calm, a shard of crystal left the cave’s walls and directed itself, animated by an unknown force, towards San, at the same speed of a bullet. Before San could even notice, though, Seonghwa casted a holy shield around him and Wooyoung, against which the crystal shard dissolved in a thousand specs of light. 

“Stay in there and do not move!” Seonghwa shouted, before another shard fell on the shield and met the same fate as the one before. And another one. And another one. And another one. Luckily enough, Seonghwa was quite experienced in protective spells, so he stood assured that, until the both of them wouldn’t have left that area, they would have been safe. That kind of shield could have resisted long enough, and such awareness gave him the reassurance he needed to actually focus not only on how to survive that circumstance, but on how to undo the curse and restore the natural activity of the rift. As for himself, the moment one of those shards decided to assault him, Seonghwa threw back at it one of the feathers of its cloak, that completely destroyed the crystal right away, cutting it down as if it was made of butter.

“Think, Seonghwa...Think…” He kept repeating himself, as he kept on fighting the assault of the magic shards with his feathers, throwing them around and recollecting them with a single gesture of his hands, trying to be as fast as he could and jolting around to avoid the ones he could not actively destroy.

If he wanted to break the curse, he had to find his mother’s seal: destroying the seal was the only possible option, but his eyes were definitely not enough.

“Bam, I need your help. Seek!” Seonghwa ordered the raven, which immediately took off from his position, right by his side, and soared towards the highest point of the cave. But before it could even make a sound, the crack on the wall, from which the purple light was filtering shortly before, completely collapsed on itself. Immediately, a huge wave, made of sharp, shiny shards of blood red crystals, flowed in the opposite direction from Seonghwa’s position, right towards Wooyoung and San, at a growing speed. Out of pure instinct, Seonghwa ran to them, as well, trying to buy them time by directing his crystal ball in front of them, with a wide movement of his hand, and making it explode, in an outburst of holy fire, against the crest of the wave that was threatening to swallow them whole. When, eventually, the shards clashed against the wall of fire conjured by the explosion of the crystal ball, a shockwave of heat and blinding light spilled over, from the exact clashing point, and hit the whole walls of the cave, causing all the crystals to dangerously dangle and, eventually, inevitably fall, in a deadly, red rain.

“No! NO! San, Wooyoung!” Seonghwa screamed, as he fell on his knees, eyes fixed on his beloved ones, that were hugging each other under the holy dome, hoping it would have withstood the impact. But, when he turned around, Seonghwa’s eyes widened with horror at the sight of a whole piece of the cave’s vault detaching itself and falling down, right on top of him, at full speed. The witch curled up on himself, while warm tears stung his eyes: he had no way out. He had completely underestimated the might of his mother’s curses, and he hadn’t been able to do anything about it. Weak. He was too weak. His mother always told him that, when he was a child. _Your emotions will be the ruin of you, Seonghwa_. And, for as much as he hated to admit that, she was right. His emotions, the one part of him that clearly distinguished him from every other witch of his coven and that made Seonghwa hope he could have found another way, he could have built another life for himself, had now been mercilessly used as a weapon against him. A weapon that was even more effective and hurtful, since it was being used by his very own mother. Petrified by a crippling pain, Seonghwa was brought back to reality by a piercing shriek, which made his blood run cold, and a following sound of shattered glass. He turned his head around, in a snap, and saw that Bam had flown down to protect him, but he wasn’t alone: all of the flocks of ravens he had summoned before had come to his aid and successfully managed to completely destroy the block of rocks that would have, otherwise, crushed him. 

Seonghwa got on his knees, eyes wet with tears, and warmly welcomed Bam in his embrace. “Thank you, Bam… Thank all of you, my precious ones…” He murmured, while ruffling their feathers and caressing their heads. “I owe you my life. I really do. Go home now. You have done more than enough, you should all rest now.”

Unfortunately, though, he could not indulge in that moment for too long. When Seonghwa got back up and looked around himself, all of the crystals that completely coated the cave’s surface had disappeared, leaving only the brittle, raw stone in their place. Everything was dark, except for the brightly gleaming light of the wall of fire he had casted to further protect San and Wooyoung, but he couldn’t see through it. A little unsteady on his feet, but nonetheless still striding fast towards them, Seonghwa moved as fast as he could to go and check up on them. When he was just a couple feet away, he heard San’s voice screaming and calling for him: “Seonghwa! Seonghwa, hurry! It hurts!”

Those words set his heart in an indescribable anguish, that made him sprint and rush to them, slipping through the fire and under the dome.

“What’s going on?” He asked, out of breath, but didn’t need any words to understand what was going on.

Right under their feet, a circle of runes, glowing bright red in the stone ground, stretched itself to the brink of the protective shield, burning them with an unstandably searing heat. Seonghwa looked at it and smirked, in spite of the confusion of his partners. He had found it, at long last, and there it was, right under his eyes: his mother’s seal.

“Stay where you are and don’t make a move. It will stop hurting you if you remain still.” He told them, trying to remain as calm as possible, while he seemed with his hand for one last thing in his satchel. “Please.”

“What is that, Seonghwa?” Wooyoung aggressively asked, in a roar.

“The one thing I needed to find: my mother’s seal. I need to break it in order to lift the curse.” He replied. “I’m sorry, loves. Are you hurt?”

“No, not even a scratch. We’ll try to stay still, but please, darling, be careful. We lost sight of you for a second and...” Wooyoung answered, visibly still shaken from the events, as he hugged an even more appalled San, that rested, exhausted, against his chest, eyes red and still glossy with tears. “It was horrible.” San added, in a feeble breath, “Indescribably horrible. Don’t be reckless, Seonghwa.”

“I won’t be. I promise.” The witch said, unsheathing a long, scratched, dragon’s fang from his satchel, still stained with spots of dried blood and filled with a sort of yellowish ichor. It was an extremely precious item of his collection, and the first magical weapon that Seonghwa had ever acquired in his whole life, as a graduating present from his parents. He looked at the seal, and nearly cried, as he recognised his mother’s handwriting, remembering the exact order with which she used to trace the runes for her spells. He knew that, if he proceeded with his actions, there would have been no way back. But, in the end, wasn’t that what he had really wanted all of his life? To finally detach himself from a family that didn’t love him, if not for his blood, and that wanted to impose on him a lifestyle that did not reflect his beliefs, his dreams, his ambitions? Then, his mind went to Wooyoung and San. To their beautiful love. To the happiness he felt when he was with them, to the balance he had finally found since he had met them, to the peacefulness of their life together. No, he could never have gone back to his coven. Not after having known what was really meaningful to him. Not after loving them as much as he did, and being loved just as much.

“Now, to us!” 

Brandishing the fang with both of his hands, above his head, Seonghwa took a deep breath, before he actually mustered all of his strength and, with no hesitation, thrusted it so hard into the seal, that he buried the fang in the exact center of the seal traced by his mother. In the very moment the bone touched the dark magical lines, clouds of black smoke rose from the ground and a deafeningly acute female shriek of pain tore the air, louder and louder. Then, the seal bursted out and shattered the ground, blasted off in rays of dark flames and sharp, obsidian fragments, in such an intense, overpowering shock wave, that threw the three of them in the air. Thankfully, the wall of holy flames was still there to catch them before they fell, gently lulling them in its wobbly embrace.

Then, Seonghwa closed his eyes, for a second, finally at peace, ears filled with Wooyoung and San's happy, chanting voices, while still feeling the flare of heat on his hands the moment he broke the seal. 

He had made it.

He had made it, and he knew it.

He had made it for them.

To stay with them, there, in Seoul, where even him, a witch born under the curse of the Hermit, had found a home and a family to which he wished to belong, for all the years to come.

  
  



End file.
